


You have to Leave to Come Back

by Thoughtyouknewr



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apparently I write Krolia now?, Child Abandonment, F/M, Flashbacks, Galra Prisoner Keith, I use that tag way too often, Krolia being a BAMF, Krolia-centric, My muse says Keith was a sick baby, So that's a thing that happened, i don't even like angst, someone please help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thoughtyouknewr/pseuds/Thoughtyouknewr
Summary: A strangely familiar prisoner on Zarkon's ship sends Krolia down memory lane. Recognizing him has her abandoning her post for the first time in twenty years. She left a long time ago, but he's the one who came back to her. She just wishes the circumstances could've been better.A different version of how Krolia and Keith's first meeting could've gone.





	You have to Leave to Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Voltron. If you're reading this anywhere that you had to pay for it, it's stolen. It should only be posted on AO3, where it's free.

He’s on his knees the first time she sees him. He should be completely unremarkable; just another prisoner in Zarkon’s ship. One of the thousands she’s walked passed without pause. 

The sight of him stops her dead.

At first, she has no idea why. He’s not so extraordinary as to catch her attention. Nothing about him particularly stands out. Her eyes still find him and his guards the second she enters the otherwise deserted hall. 

It takes two soldiers to keep him down. They each restrain one side and the one on his right keeps a hand on his neck to force his head down. His whole body heaves with his strained breaths. 

It strikes her as strange that he's so well restrained, because he’s so _small_. Her first thought is that he can’t be fully grown.

A shock of dark hair falls into his face, obscuring anything else she may have been able to see of him. She later thinks that's what initially halted her. It reminds her of things she usually never lets herself think about.

***

_ A man bending over the tiny baby in his arms, her baby. She is worried at first that he is displeased when she sees the set of his shoulders. She isn’t familiar enough with human body language to know what he was thinking. He lifts his face, tears in his eyes but the gentlest of smiles on his lips, and she relaxes. It tells her everything she needs to know. _

***

She wonders what she would find behind this person’s black hair. 

It isn’t really enough to move her. She shouldn’t feel anything more than idle curiosity, and yet…

She looks closer. She can’t help it. He is magnetic, dragging her attention away from everything else. She’s never experienced anything like it. 

Except once. But she tries to forget that

***

_ The baby is perfect, but oh so tiny. She’s never seen anything quiet so fragile and helpless. She should find it distasteful: that’s how she was raised. She’s entranced. _

***

His body language is difficult. He’s obviously exhausted. There’s a slump to his shoulders, a tilt to his head even when forced to bow it that speaks of weariness. But there’s something else too: a tension. She can’t tell if it’s fear or anger.

***

_“What do you_ mean _you’re leaving!?” His body is taught and she thinks she reads fear. He has no way to protect their son against the things she’s told him about._

_ “No one will come for the baby, you will be safe,” she assures. “This planet is too far from the Empire still.” _

_ “No one including you, apparently!” he snaps. And oh. It’s anger, then. She was never very good at telling the difference. She doesn’t know if there is much of one for many humans. _

***

Again, this is nothing out of the ordinary. People are rarely relaxed when moving through Zarkon’s ship, especially prisoners. She should move on. Her continued presence is already suspicious. She lingers. 

One of his guards looks to her, allowing him to lift his head while the guard is distracted with her. He brings his face up, and she _knows_ instantly.

***

_ The baby is not as filled out as Galra children usually are. She only carried him for the duration of a normal human pregnancy despite the fact that she is Galra and he is half. She worries he wasn’t given enough time to develop.  _

_ He has none of the chubbiness his species is known for. His features are defined even so early in life, all sharp lines where there should be soft curves. He looks starved. She can barely get him to eat.  _

_ She can tell his father is worried. He tries to hide it, but neither of them know what they’re doing. There has never been a hybrid between their species before. They are compatible enough to produce offspring. Whether or not the baby will be viable is another story, and they have no way of knowing the ending.  _

_ She savors him while she has him. She always knew it would be limited. She can’t stay here. She has duties, responsibilities that won’t wait while she raises a frail child. _

_ He makes a tiny noise, drawing her attention back to him. All of his noises are breathy and quiet, like they take too much effort to be worth it. They almost hurt her to hear.  _

_ He is staring up at her with violet eyes, the only feature he obviously inherited from her. His father tells her his species doesn’t have that color naturally. They are huge in his little face and so expressive already. They give her hope. The baby is tiny and delicate, but full of fire. _

***

Violet eyes meet hers. Pain is reflected there. A lifetime’s worth. But so is determination and that _fire_. Everything snaps into place. 

She is moving before she has time to consider. The hall way is empty except for him and the guards, so there is no one there to see them hit the ground. 

He doesn’t question as she tugs him up and helps him limp as quickly as possible through the ship. She rather thinks he doesn’t really have any choice but to follow, and he seems to agree. He is as delicate as he was as an infant, and something has injured him; he couldn’t get out on his own. 

They are both aware that she is the less of two evils. 

Their flight from the ship is much easier than it should’ve been. For all that this is Zarkon’s ship, there was no one to raise the alarm. No one is yet looking for them. They aren’t followed.

***

_Her partner is furious as he trails after her. The baby is clutched in his arms like he’s never touched anything so precious even as his face is clouded with rage at her. He will make a good father. Much better than she would do as a mother. She is too afraid already, if she has to admit it._

_ The baby is so small and weak. She doesn’t want to watch him take his last breath. She has been unable to coax him into eating more. Born dangerously undersized for a Galra infant, he is barely growing. She does not want to see the moment when barely becomes not at all, and then devolves into the baby wasting away before her eyes. She cannot. _

_ Even if she were strong enough, it’s better this way. In the event of a miracle allowing the baby to survive, he would be better off never knowing her than having her torn away. Loss at an age when he could actually comprehend it could undo any progress they make.  _

_ She has already been gone too long anyway. She is needed by more than just the people she holds dear. This is for the best. _

_ Her partner doesn’t see it. He sees abandonment and the devastation of burying their child alone. She thinks he might already hate her for it. _

_ But he loves the baby. He will take care of their son as much as possible. He will take over her responsibilities here. She must handle the rest. _

_ She resolutely turns away from him and seals herself in her ship. It makes as hissing sound as air pressure is established and she lets it down out her partner’s last attempts to make her stay. _

***

The door to the escape pod hisses as she opens it. No one stopped them through the entire ship, but they are not quite in the clear yet. 

She lays him down as gently as possible in her haste and takes the pilot seat. He rustles around behind her, tending the deep wound in his side. She desperately hopes she was not too late. Wouldn’t it be ironic if she left partially to avoid seeing him die only to watch him bleed out before her eyes just as she gets him back?

It is the work of a few dobashes to set the ship on autopilot to the nearest Marmora base. She will be welcome there. 

Then she turns to her son. He is on his feet again, but unsteady. His hands don’t shake as he finishes wrapping the wound with the emergency bandages, but his knees buckle just as she stands. 

She barely catches him and lowers them both to the ground. It’s easy to maneuver him to lay with his head in her lap. He is limp, but still so very small. It’s like arranging a particularly large doll. 

“Rest,” she says, speaking to him for the first time he will be able to remember. She isn’t sure he’s conscious enough to understand. “I left you once. I'll _never_ leave you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> How did Krolia get on Zarkon's ship? Anyone's guess. How was Keith captured? Choose your own adventure. When is this set? Throw a dart at the time line and wherever it stick, that's when it was. 
> 
> I hope this wasn't confusing. I'm not very practiced with using first person, and I'm not sure about not naming anyone this whole time. That's just how it happened, ok?
> 
> Feedback would be appreciated on this one, it was a bit of a struggle. 
> 
> Have a great day everyone!


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